


safely ensconced.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Marvel
Genre: Casual Sex, Cock Warming, Gentleness, M/M, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 04:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Fandral has a... Habit.Loki doesn't mind.





	safely ensconced.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: You mentioned that you like cockwarming in one of the kink asks and uh... have you ever written/read any cockwarming for Dashingfrost? Because that sounds fantastic

For Loki, this would be a debasement. It would be humiliating, an act of  _embarrassment._ On Sakaar, the Grandmaster might have done this to tease him, to drive him so wild he could not stand it; he might have had Loki wrap his lips around the Grandmaster’s cock to be a visible toy, a resource. The idea makes Loki feels sick to his stomach - but he’s escaped from Sakaar now. He’s here, on the Ark, and Fandral is right here.

Fandral isn’t cruel, isn’t unkind, and  _embarrassed_ … Fandral looks anything but embarrassed. 

He’s done it before, slid his hands gentle over Loki’s thighs in the mornings on the Ark, when Loki is laid back in bed with a book in his hands, and just– Leans in, drags his palms over Loki’s thighs, takes the small jut of Loki’s cock in his mouth - abruptly warm and wet and making him shiver - and just… Holds it. Loki’s breath hitches in his throat, and he waits for the drag of Fandral’s tongue, for him to suck, but he does neither. Fandral just sits there, his cheek pressed loose against the side of Loki’s thighs, his lips parted around the base of Loki’s cock, letting its head rest on the tip of his tongue.

Loki stares down at him, the book clasped loosely in his hands.

Fandral arches his eyebrows, as if to say,  _What_?

And Loki leaves it be. It happens a few mornings, and Loki is mildly perplexed by it, but he doesn’t question it. Fandral will sprawl in his lap for an hour at a time, Loki’s prick upon his tongue, his eyes closed, his form quite relaxed. It’s…  _Nice_. It’s pleasant. Feeling the warmth ensconce of Fandral’s mouth around him, it’s certainly strange, but not unpleasant. 

That happens a few times, but this time? This time is different.

“Could you make it a little bigger?” Fandral asks casually. Loki is sat back in the chair in his room, sprawled in the seat of his reading nook, and he looks up from the book he’s reading - a text about astrophysics that Fandral had turned his nose up at - and he meets Fandral’s gaze. Fandral is looking down at him, one arm over his chest, his other resting with the fingers against his own lips, thumb playing over the pink cupid’s bow of his upper one. 

“What?” Loki asks.

“Your cock. Could you make it bigger?”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Not right now.” Leaning back in his seat, mildly perplexed, Loki assents. Shapeshifting is  _easy_ , and he can feel the shift in his trousers, feels the breeches become tighter, as he puts a little more size on his cock, makes it thicker, makes it longer… Fandral’s gaze is straight downward, and hungry. Loki swallows as he drops to his knees, his fingers moving to the lacing of Loki’s breeches and undoing them with an easy grace, and Loki watches Fandral’s focus, watches him drag Loki’s breeches open, shift in, and take Loki’s cock onto his tongue.

It takes him a moment. This is much bigger than Loki ordinarily is, more similar in size to Fandral’s own not especially modest length, and Fandral stretches his lips right around it, his tongue dragging hot over the base. Loki grunts, feeling blood rush downward in preparation, but once Fandral’s lips are set around the base of Loki’s cock, Loki’s head heavy on the back of his tongue, he stops.

He can feel Fandral’s breathing against the bare skin of his groin, feels the inhalation and exhalation through his nose, and instinctively he puts his hand down, dragging his fingers gently through Fandral’s hair. 

He thinks of Sakaar, thinks of the frantic haste of it all, hands on his body when he passes, the way the Grandmaster had touched him, thrown him roughly this way and that, fucked him hard, fucked him rough, fucked him  _painfully_  - and equally, the way the Grandmaster could be soft, keep Loki in his lap with his fingers circling every sensitive spot of Loki’s flesh, for  _hours_ , teasing, until Loki could do nothing more than cry. 

Fandral isn’t like that. Fandral is safe, and warm, and so  _gentle_.

“Why do you like it?” Loki asks softly. He feels Fandral’s tongue shift against the base of his cock, flicking over the seam of flesh there, and Loki shivers, swallowing down the sudden saliva in his mouth. Fandral bats his eyelashes enticingly ( _the Grandmaster could never get that right)_ , and Loki laughs softly. It’s no answer - maybe there is no answer.

Loki bites his lip, curling a lock of blond hair upon his index finger, and he feels his cock half-hard, encouraged by the heat surrounding it, but not being coaxed into hardness. Fandral just wants to  _hold_  it, to keep it warm.

It’s hard to trust him. It’s hard to trust anything, anymore, hard to relax, but  _Fandral_ –

He turns back to his book, and concentrates on the text on the page. 

They sit like that, just so, for forty minutes before Fandral gets bored, and begins to flick his tongue over Loki’s cockhead, playing with his frenulum until Loki’s wet at the head, and Fandral is  _eager_  to straddle Loki’s hips and sink down onto his cock.

Loki’s book drops hard to the ground, the dustcover falling away, and his hands go right to Fandral’s hips. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.


End file.
